All Soul's Day
by Mutilated Gem
Summary: "Most people never really live to see their deepest, darkest fears become a reality, and thankfully I didn't either," - Aeneas Surana. Rated M for mature themes and graphic descriptions of violence. A re-telling of the events that happened in game through the eyes of a sarcastic elf rumored to be a blood mage.
1. Chapter 1

Drakonis, 9:29 Dragon

Aeneas blankly stared into space through his long mattered hair, hugging his knees. The stone ground was cold, no matter how long he had been sitting there. The chained manacles gently clanked as a cold breeze blew by, causing goose-bumps. He shivered slightly and hugged his knees tighter.

He had been in his cell for at least five days now, due to rumours spreading like wildfire. Rumours of him being a blood mage. The Templars had called for an investigation on him; a mixture of searching for material evidence, along with personal accounts or a clouded look in one's eyes. This, along with multiple interrogations with the usage of Magebane and their Templar abilities.

He could only laugh bitterly. The most promising student, the very one that First Enchanter Irving was so proud to bring him under his tutelage six years ago, was now accused of being a maleficar. He could only imagine what the look on First Enchanter Irving's face was when Greagoir announced Aeneas had been imprisoned. All because of his utterly stupid decision to cut.

It was a way of coping; it gave him a false sense of peace, he can see now, due to the pressures pushed upon him. It was his way of applying some sort of control in his life. So, he made a pattern of it. An intricate pattern that he had to admit is very pleasing to the eye, on the interior surface of his left arm. It had been about fourteen days, maybe, since he'd done it, and it looked like it was healing well enough. He had made sure to apply elfroot salves to speed up the recovery process, along with minor healing spells. He never intended to cause any serious damage to his arm, which was why he done it lightly. He made sure to only isolate the portion of the epidermis he cut into. He had no intention of going any deeper than that. The risk of nicking an artery was too high.

He sighed, and leaned back against the also cold stone wall, as he absently touched the raised scarring. He stood as the barred door opened, his knee joints cracking as he did so. He was surprised when he was faced by a nameless Templar with his helmet on, instead of Greagoir himself. He expected to be yelled at again by the Knight Commander, but apparently he'd latched himself onto other things of immediate importance.

"So… what's going to happen to me?" He flipped his hair out of his light green eyes, feeling tired and weak. The small cloth provided wasn't enough to cushion the stone or offer warmth for him to sleep properly, he also was not offered any food, though very minimal water. Sleep deprivation and malnutrition was a part of the interrogation technique, it appeared to Aeneas.

"Your scarring is put on file for future reference, if any other accusation or occurrence happens in regards to you. You will be watched and escorted by two Templars at all times, that is all I'm allowed to say on the matter." He grunted.

"So… I'm free from this cell for the moment?"

"Yes, and I am to escort you to Senior Enchanter Wynne."

Aeneas rolled his eyes at the notion that he didn't know how to look after his own body, or that he is a shitty healer. "Alright," he pushed himself off the wall for the force of momentum and clutched at his stomach as he followed the nameless Templar, his stomach screaming out in hunger.

The Templar led Aeneas to the infirmary and practically forced him into a chair provided near the east wing. The beds were a good distance away from where he sat with his arms crossed against his chest. He slouched in his chair and ignored the clawing pain in his stomach when he saw Senior Enchanter Wynne arrive.

"So I understand that I am to take a look at your arm and general homeostatic levels." Wynne begun as she placed the potent elfroot potion on the table next to him, along with a small roll of bandages. Whilst seeing dark circles under his eyes, that his skin lost its colour and that it was more pale than usual. Aeneas truly did look terrible.

"Yeah." Aeneas bitterly smirked at her "Looks like you got your work cut out for you, huh? What with examining a supposed maleficar, not knowing if I'm to do something insidious like, oh… I don't know, take over your mind. Make you do horrid acts to fuel nightmares for years to come, against the fellow cohort of mages and Templars."

His nameless Templar escort hit him in the shoulder, hard enough to leave a nasty bruise.

"Ow!"

Wynne sighed with a hand on her forehead, "it's fine," she was about to say the name of the Templar before she cut herself off. "If you could please take a step or two back, because despite his arrogance, I truly doubt he even has enough energy to perform the simplest of spells, much less blood magic. Regardless if you're here to watch him or not."

The Templar grunted and took two steps back.

"Your arm, please." She demanded after bringing another chair over and sitting down to examine him.

Aeneas rolled his eyes and gave his arm to her, which she was none too gentle with and caused him to cry out. Payback, he supposed.

She raised her brow when she saw the pattern of the Chantry's symbol of the sun and flames surrounding it with, horizontal to it, what looked like either vines or barbed wire. An indication that he felt too tightly constricted by the Chantry, perhaps? Either way, she was able to tell that they were, indeed, cuts made with most likely a surgical scalpel. She then frowned, how was he able to get access to it? Though, more importantly, the cuts seemed to be done by an experienced hand. Meaning the possibility of him being a blood mage seemed more likely, but of course there were other factors as to why he was experienced with the scalpel. She just couldn't think of any…

"Regardless of the destructive method used, very creative." She mentioned as she looked at it both physically and spiritually for any signs of infection, already there or starting. She found none.

He down-played his attitude about it and shrugged, "I guess…"

"Do you mind telling me, on your own account, as to why you did it?" She asked as she damped several tissues with the elfroot potion, and lightly dabbed it on the raised skin.

Aeneas winced when it stung him and began to itch a little, but soon became cold and soothing. "What? You don't believe I'm a blood mage? I figured I should be waiting for a headsman, or at least the Rite of Tranquillity, when I was in my cell, anyway... Greagoir seemed to imply it, at least…"

"It is a fair, if grim notion. Blood magic is a crime against nature, as you well know. Though I'm not so self-righteous to believe that anyone is beyond redemption, though it does beg the question, doesn't it? Do we suffer a blood mage to live and fall victim to their dark magic, or do we show mercy and compassion… try to steer them away from their current path and show them that there is good in this world, and that they can cause much good themselves?"

"You didn't answer my question." He replied blankly.

"It is not my place to judge, so I shan't voice my opinion on the matter."

"I'll take that as a 'yes', then."

Wynne shook her head, "regardless of what I think you do in private is irrelevant at this point. I am to merely play the part of the 'wet nurse', as you apprentices put it, and see you healthy again. Now, if you don't mind, I would like you to stand and face away from me." It may have been an unnecessary pre-caution, given the amount of time they were speaking for, though better safe than sorry.

Aeneas sighed and stood up to turn his back to her, allowing her further her role as a physician and look at him more thoroughly. She gently touched the skin of the midsection of his back, under his rough tunic, which caused him to arch his back at the cold magic being applied. Wynne did an in depth examination of his body's integumentary, digestive, lymphatic and nervous systems.

Aeneas had felt faint most of the time when he was in his cell, though right then he cursed himself for almost collapsing. Somehow he had managed to catch himself before he did so, but Wynne had also noticed and held onto him to keep him steady.

"You're alright, Aeneas. Almost done, then you can take a lie down and have something to eat." She rubbed his back in circles in a comforting manner.

Aeneas wasn't going to reply, that was until he felt very nauseated, causing his breathing to become more shallow "I… think I'm going to need a bucket soon…"

She smiled sadly at him and finished her examination, gesturing for the Templar to help him to one of the infirmary beds. She also assumed the Templar went away to find a bucket for Aeneas. She came back with a glass of cold water and placed it on the end-table next to the bed. Though Aeneas had his good arm over his eyes as he concentrated on his breathing.

"I will check on you again after your body has expelled the poison, and after you've eaten."

That night was filled with the sounds of laboured breathing, coughing and retching in the infirmary.


	2. Chapter 2

He was visited again by Wynne in the early afternoon the next day, and true to Greagoir's orders, she saw two Templars sitting in chairs alongside the nearest wall to Aeneas, watching him. It seemed to her that he had gotten at least some sleep, and that he had eaten as well. Good.

"Did you have a decent sleep?" She asked while sitting on the edge of his bed and placed the back of her hand to his forehead.

"I guess…"

"That is good to hear," she took her hand away from him "what did you eat?"

"Toast, mostly… a few slices of cheese as well."

"That is good also, you wouldn't want to feel nauseated while speaking with First Enchanter Irving today."

"Irving? But I thought that-"

"He wants to hear your side of the story, and I suggest you stay your tongue from sarcasm."

"… he's mad at me, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Shit…"

"Does he think you're a blood mage, though? No he doesn't."

"Well… that's good at least." Aeneas sighed both in relief and annoyance. He wondered how he was going to tell Irving what had been going through his mind, or at least some believable excuse, as to why he did so, so he could avoid being yelled at as much as possible.

The Templars take accusations of blood magic *very* seriously, almost to a paranoid level, where no evidence was required to throw a mage in a cell. Why wouldn't they though? Templars no doubt thought mages are either born evil or at least an unwilling vessel for demons to draw near. So why don't the Templars just kill every mage they come across? Aeneas theorised that the Templars need to appear civil to the rest of the world, because although the citizens of Thedas was scared of magic, Aeneas thought they would at least see the injustice if mass-genocide occurred, simply because people were born with a special ability. Or maybe he was giving them too much credit…?

"Irving will be here soon, so now would be the time to look presentable if that's what you feel you need to do." Wynne stated simply, stood up and left the room to give him privacy.

"Thanks…" Aeneas sighed and swung his legs over the bed and looked over his shoulder at the two who've been sitting and watching him the whole time. "Don't suppose that either of the Templars watching me are gonna actually be interesting and say something?" He asked them.

They said nothing.

"Didn't think so…" he shook his head. He climbed out of bed and to do what he could to freshen up. Mostly he just wet his mattered hair with his hands under the sink to try and get rid of the fizz. He assumed he wouldn't have enough time for a bath, so he didn't bother with the notion. Irving was no doubt going to see him whilst Aeneas was a mess, so there was reason to fuss over it. He didn't have to like it though.

He was right about not having enough time. Irving walked into the infirmary about five minutes later and stood, frowning at Aeneas with his arms crossed against his chest.

Aeneas winced when he looked up and saw Irving's face in the mirror. If looks could kill… "…don't suppose there's anything I can say to avoid being yelled at?" Aeneas asked nervously.

"None."

"Yeah… I didn't there would be…" he sighed.

"Why?" Irving sounded more sad than upset.

Aeneas didn't answer, instead he sighed and turned to face Irving. Only noticing then that his mentor suddenly looked even more wizened than what he usually did.

Irving glared at him when Aeneas didn't answer and closed the distance between them, and forcibly grabbed Aeneas' left arm to look it at. This caused Aeneas to yelp. "The Chantry's symbol…" Irving said more to himself before asking "and this around it? What is that supposed to be?" He questioned, referring to the lines horizontal to it.

"Vines…" he lied, taking his arm away from Irving. Irving let him.

He looked at Aeneas, it was the same look he always gave him whenever he lied to Irving. It was akin to the 'I'm disappointed in you' look. "Vines?" He questioned incredulously.

"Y-yes. Vines."

"Do you think me stupid, Aeneas?"

"What? No! Of course not!"

"Then why are you lying to me?"

Aeneas sighed, "can we please just not talk about this?"

Irving folded his arms again and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "do you truly think whatever made you do it to yourself will go away if you don't speak about it?"

"Whether if I speak about it or not, it doesn't matter. It's always going to be there, so what's the point?"

"The point, child," Aeneas could hear Irving's voice straining to remain calm. Irving took a deep breath and restarted, "the point is your mental and physical health is important, along with your reputation."

Aeneas rolled his eyes, "screw my reputation. I don't care what the other mages think of me."

Irving forcibly took Aeneas' arm again and twisted it so the scarification was in plain view, causing Aeneas to yelp. "What of the Templars? If they had found evidence pointing to you, whether if it was yours or not, would you care then?" Irving watched Aeneas squirm and try to pull his arm out of his grip. Irving held on tighter with an iron grip beyond his years. "They were so close to ordering the Rite of Tranquillity on you, do you not care about this at all?" Irving had almost yelled at him.

Aeneas looked away from Irving whilst trying to blink away his tears. He's given up trying to remove his arm from him, "and you think yelling at me is gonna help anyone in this?" He asked defiantly.

Anger flashed across Irving's face but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Someone has to teach you that there are always going to be consequences in regards to your actions."

"I know that!"

"Well apparently not! If you did, then you would not have done this!" He angrily referred to Aeneas' scarring as his grip became even tighter.

Aeneas ignored Irving's grip that dug a bruise in his arm. "Irving, genuine question here; there is no answer I can give that will satisfy you, is there?"

Irving glared at Aeneas before sighing. He let go of Aeneas' arm and turned briskly away from him, "see to it that you're ready for dinner in three hours. I want no more mentions of any bodily harm." Irving strode out of the infirmary, eager to deal with anything but Aeneas.


	3. Chapter 3

Wintermarch, 9:30 Dragon

Aeneas was awakened from his sleep by armoured footsteps. He groaned as he opened his eyes, only to have them hurt from opening them too early. "Fuck…" he complained and brought an arm over his eyes "what do you want?" he asked irritably at the Templars in the dormitory.

One of the Templars pulled the blankets from his body, which caused Aeneas to groan again and kicked at the blankets annoyingly. "You have been summoned to the Ritual Chamber under First Enchanter Irving's and Knight Commander Greagoir's orders."

He opened his eyes he didn't remember closing, only just noticing it was still night… or at least very early in the morning "the Ritual Chamber…? What-?"

"You've been called upon to undergo the Harrowing."

Aeneas' eyes widened in surprise and sat up. He didn't think that he would be able to become a full-fledged mage, not when he was accused of blood magic just a year ago. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the intricate scarring feeling tight as he distributed his weight evenly whilst leaning back, "do… I need anything for the Harrowing?"

"No."

Aeneas nodded and stood up, still in shock about the sudden turn of events. The marble floor was cold, the air was cold, and everything else was cold except his bed, but that didn't matter. He had grown used to it, so it didn't bother him much as he got dressed in his worn apprentice robes, and put on his boots. Of course the two Templars watched him, none of them never really trusted him after what he did last year, but that didn't matter either. Aeneas was truly amazed that Irving had convinced Greagoir that Aeneas was both worthy and ready to become a mage by title, instead of just remaining an apprentice forever, or made tranquil.

By the time Aeneas finished lacing his boots up, he turned to the Templars "alright…" he said somewhat nervously as an indication he was ready to go.

The Templars led him up the Tower into the Ritual Chamber, where Aeneas saw three Templars standing beside Knight Commander Greagoir. His mentor, First Enchanter Irving, stood facing Greagoir as Aeneas walked into the chamber, his two Templar escorts following suit. He couldn't help but look around the room he never been in before. He saw the full moon flood the room with its light through the windows. The chamber itself had nothing in it, aside from a basin of… something, Aeneas wasn't sure what was in it, but either way, it glowed. There was also blood stained on the ground from where the basin stood. Aeneas had heard of apprentices that never came back from the Harrowing…

Fuck… what if the Harrowing was just a rouse? What if they're still convinced he's a maleficar, and they're just leading him into a false sense of security? What if he fails the Harrowing? He'd no doubt die. Either way, he'd die… Fuck.

"'Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.'" Greagoir began, frowning at Aeneas as he looked him up and down. He saw the mage was getting agitated. "Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who brought the world to the edge of ruin." Greagoir walked towards Aeneas to further study Aeneas' face.

Aeneas stiffened.

"Your magic is a gift, but it is also a curse, for demons of the dream world—the Fade—are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world." Greagoir paced the room without taking his eyes off Aeneas. Like a wolf circling a lamb.

Aeneas focused on Greagoir that he didn't see Irving move. His attention was snapped to Irving when he clasped Aeneas' hands in his. "This is why the Harrowing exists. The ritual sends you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon, armed with only your will."

Aeneas fidgeted and swallowed his fear. He had to believe this was real, "I'm ready."

"Know this, apprentice, should you fail, we Templars will perform our duty. You will die." Greagoir was solemn about it as he stood behind the basin and gestured to the contents within. "This is lyrium; the very essence of magic and your gateway into the Fade."

Irving tightened his grip on Aeneas' hands, almost as if he was scared for him. "The Harrowing is a secret out of necessity, child. Every mage must go through this trial by fire. As we succeeded, so shall you."

Aeneas could only nod. His eyes closed to concentrate. He could feel the lyrium calling to him.

Greagoir frowned at Irving, and Irving slowly let go of his pupil's hands. "The apprentice must go through this alone, Irving." Greagoir nodded curtly to Aeneas "You are ready."

Aeneas opened his eyes and took a deep breath. Determination now possessing him. He walked to the basin and the lyrium that beckoned him, as everyone watched intensely. Now seeing the lyrium within was a vivid blue colour that stung his eyes to look at. He squinted as he placed his left hand just above the contents. His senses overwhelmed, he quickly took his hand away from the basin as blue fire engulfed it.


	4. Chapter 4

Everything was still, and yet it wasn't. It was like everything was engulfed by an invisible fire that seemed to rage everywhere. From what he could see, he was still in the Tower, still in the Ritual Chamber, though he knew this wasn't the case. Spiritually speaking, at least. Further evidence to prove this was he was there alone. Nor did he think he would encounter anyone he knew.

He groaned as he climbed to his feet and noticed that his voice echoed. The hair on the back of his neck spiked up when he got the surreal sense that something was wrong.

"Right… first thing's first… get my bearings…" Aeneas commented to himself as he mustered up some confidence to turn around and open the door to the Ritual Chamber. He could hear his voice echo, emphasising how lonely the chamber was.

Aeneas pulled at the heavy door to the Ritual Chamber that led to the lower levels of the Tower. Aeneas wasn't sure why he looked over his shoulder, though nothing felt right about any of this. He heard from multiple mages who passed their Harrowing, that each time they entered the Fade, they woke up in something akin to a wasteland, often either being frozen or simply some desert—so why did Aeneas wake up in the Ritual Chamber? The difference was starting to unnerve him, but he knew he was anything other than powerless.

The hallways seemed longer than the ones in the waking world, and was accompanied by shadows that seemed to creep ever closer. Casting the illusion that the walls were slowly closing in on him.

He took a calming breath and his time. Knowing that panicking would simply allow the walls to do what they threatened.

By the time he reached the stockroom, Aeneas heard the fading echo of bitter laughter. "Someone else thrown to the wolves… as fresh and unprepared as ever!"

Aeneas frowned in curiosity at the voice. From what he could gather, it was male, though do spirits really have a gender? He walked closer to the voice but saw no one.

"It isn't right that they do this, the Templars! Not to you, me or anyone!"

Aeneas looked down to his feet and saw a mouse. He blinked "… never thought I'd encounter a talking rat for my test."

"Oh… this is rich!" The mouse laughed bitterly, "you think you're really here? In that body? You only look like that because you *think* you do!" The mouse sighed in a defeated manner and scurried a short distance, "it's always the same… it's not your fault, though. You're just in the same boat as I was, right?" There was a brief blinding flash of magic that made Aeneas shield his eyes. When it was safe to look, he found a man leaning against a lone crate in the stockroom, his apprentice robes seeming worse for wear. Though when Aeneas looked at his face, he found it hard to focus on it. Not because there was something wrong with his eyes, but because his features were indistinct. "Allow me to formally welcome you to the Fade. You can call me," he chuckled a little "well… you can call me Mouse."

"Not your real name, I take it?" It was common knowledge amongst mages, Templars and the higher-ups in the Chantry that all names have power. Especially over demons. Not that Aeneas thought 'Mouse' was a demon, though he certainly had no reason to trust 'him' anyway.

"No, I guess not… I don't remember anything from… before." Mouse pushed himself off the crate and gazed into space with an angry look on his face "the Templars kill you if you take too long, you see. They figure you failed and they don't want something getting out." Mouse turned his attention to Aeneas, anger still on his face as well as sorrow, regret even. "That's what they did to me, I think… I have no body to return to, and you don't have much time until the same thing happens to you."

"So the Templars simply killed you?" Aeneas wasn't sure if the notion had merit to it. It certainly seemed plausible, though wouldn't there be considerably less mages in the Tower?

"That's what happens to all the physical bodies of apprentices who take too long. They'd kill every mage if they could. All the Templars see in magic is danger." Aeneas could hear the venom dripping from his voice as Mouse continued. "They don't *just* use the Harrowing, either. If you learn a little too much, even a little, they label you a blood mage and kill you on sight!"

Aeneas wasn't going to comment on the last part.

"True mages like you know that the power you hold is a gateway to much greater rewards. A potential they could never hope to contain!"

"… you're starting to sound a little crazy, Mouse."

"Am I? I'm sorry… Though there are mages who don't go to the Circle of Magi, you know. Mages who don't obey the Templars. They're hunted daily, but at least they're free…" He sighed, "you don't want to lose yourself in the Fade… Being nothing is a more merciful fate than this."

There was a moment of uneasy silence before Aeneas decided to change the subject, "how much time do you think I have, exactly?"

"I-I don't remember… I ran away. I hid. I don't know for how long."

"Of course you did…" Aeneas sighed. He turned to walk away, noticing another blinding flash in his peripherals and the quiet squeak of Mouse. Aeneas shook his head, knowing that Mouse was going to follow him, but otherwise ignored him. Aeneas had to find the demon he needed to confront.

)0(

It was some time before Mouse spoke again, and Aeneas couldn't really say he wanted to hear what Mouse had to say. "Be careful. There's another spirit around here… not the one hunting you, but still…"

Hearing of the demon hunting Aeneas was definitely news to him. He stopped walking and frowned at Mouse, who stopped beside his feet as a mouse, wondering why he didn't mention the demon was hunting him alongside Aeneas actually having a time limit. He chose not to say anything, that would just waste time, and simply rolled his eyes instead.

It seemed like Aeneas couldn't remember getting from Point A to Point B each time he moved, but either way he found himself in the first floor of the Tower. He also found that something that looked like a bear was lying down and guarding the hallways. "Hmmm… so you're the mortal being hunted?" The bear-thing yawned and stretched slightly before rolling on his back and lazed around, "and the small one? Is it to be my snack?" It asked Aeneas, referring to Mouse.

"I don't like this…" Mouse commented nervously, "we should go."

The bear-thing sniffed in derision and didn't seem to bother moving, "no matter. The demon will get you eventually… maybe there will even be scraps."

Aeneas glared, his long fingers cracking slightly with lightening. Ready to stun it before it had a chance to tear him in two, "why wait for scraps when you can come and get some now?"

"No," the bear-thing yawned, again, it didn't bother getting up. "You'll only run away… I hate chasing prey that choose to run…" It closed its eyes and let out a huff, "begone, mortal! Surely you have better things to do than bother Sloth." Sloth yawned again, and sounded very sleepy "I already tire of you…"

"Sloth, then…" Aeneas was sure it only told him the category of what type of demon it fell under, and not its name itself. The lightening between his fingers died with a quick and silent dismissal, "surely a demon such as yourself could allow for a little exhaustion in exchange for a great feast."

"What do you mean, mortal?"

"The demon hunting me. Help me defeat it and you can feast on its remains."

Sloth chuckled, "I think you have me confused with a demon of hunger. I am not a cannibal, mortal," it yawned again.

Aeneas hated how yawning seemed to be contagious and clenched his jaws shut.

Mouse spoke up in Aeneas' silence, his voice weary "he looks powerful… it might be possible that he could teach you to be like him."

"Like me?" Sloth sounded somewhat pleased "I am indeed powerful in this form. Teaching… is so exhausting though… too much effort involved." Sloth stretched its front and hind legs out, "besides… most mortals are too attached to their forms to learn anything." Sloth paused, "you however," he referred to Mouse "have given up on your human psyche long ago…"

"M-me? A bear? I-I don't think I'll make a very good bear… how would I hide?" Mouse protested.

"You could become more than some terrified creature that hides, Mouse. You'd be able to learn to defend yourself. Prey on others for a change." Aeneas added in an attempt to convince Mouse.

Mouse seemed to be nervous in his mouse form and changed to his form to human. Aeneas was sure to look away or else be blinded. "I… do welcome the opportunity. The mages at the Tower are so quick to volunteer others, as you well know…" Mouse sighed, "I'll try. I'll try and be a bear…"

"That's nice," Sloth hummed "but like I said; teaching is *so* exhausting…"

Aeneas could see the walls creep closer to him, and wondered if that had something to do with what Mouse said about him having a time limit. Aeneas definitely didn't want to test that theory, "Mouse wants to learn. Teach him."

The sloth demon sighed, "you wish to learn my form, little mouse? A challenge for your friend then. He is to answer three riddles correctly for me to teach you my form."

"Riddles?" Aeneas asked incredulously "are you joking?" It was just as well… Aeneas hated riddles.

"Indeed I am not… I get so little entertainment. Besides, I think I can muster up some energy and devour you both if you answer any of my riddles incorrectly."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mouse asked Aeneas to the side.

Aeneas rolled his eyes at Mouse's question and ignored him. "Fine. I accept your challenge, Sloth."

"Truly?" Sloth sounded pleasantly surprised and stood to all four's. "Well… this is certainly becoming more promising…" If one could hear a mouth salivate, Aeneas definitely heard Sloth's mouth do it. "My first riddle is this; I have seas with no water, coasts but no sand, towns without people, mountains without land. What am I?" Sloth seemed to confirm Aeneas' suspicion by drooling. Which Aeneas couldn't help but stare at, a little repulsed.

"A map," Aeneas answered.

Sloth huffed, "hmph… Correct. Let's move on, shall we?" Sloth yawned, allowing for more drool to cascade from its mouth. "The second riddle; I am rarely touched but often held. If you have wit, then you'll use me well. What am I?"

Aeneas raised an eyebrow, "my tongue?"

"Yes, mage, your witty tongue…" Sloth said somewhat annoyed. "Shall we try one last time?" Sloth didn't wait for an answer, "often do I spin a tale, never do I charge a fee. I'll amuse you for an eve, but, alas, you won't remember me. What am I?"

At this point Aeneas was getting irritated, and voiced said irritation, his fingers once again cracking with lightening. "An annoying riddler," Aeneas answered sarcastically.

"Oh good…" Sloth sounded very pleased "I get to devour that witty little tongue of yours." Sloth roared, showing exactly how long and sharp its teeth are, with spittle flying in each direction. The roar itself was loud enough to stun most people with ringing in their ears, just as it stunned Aeneas before he could fire off his spell. Aeneas' lightening fizzled out.

In the confusion Aeneas saw the blinding flash again that also stung his eyes. He recovered two seconds later only to find Mouse gone. Aeneas didn't even think when he lifted his arm up in defence as Sloth bit into it. Aeneas screamed as he felt his flesh in his arm tear, his sleeve becoming heavy with the blood that pooled and drenched into it. Aeneas refused to close his eyes as Sloth was about to snap and twist its mouth, which would cause Aeneas' bones to break completely. Before this could happen, Aeneas saw an elongated tooth in Sloth's bloodied and diseased gums that looked loose. Aeneas rammed his free arm into the demon's mouth to yank out its tooth as something akin to adrenaline started to flood his being.

The tooth tore from Sloth's mouth, causing Sloth to cry out and Aeneas' arm to be free. Aeneas wasted no time to draw from his pool of mana and conjure up fire to coat the tooth with. Like that of a dagger of flame.

Sloth lunged at him again, which Aeneas dodged this time by tumbling out of the way. He stood to his feet as Sloth turned to snap at him. Once, twice, thrice. Aeneas backed away from each snap, with each step he took, he added another word to his healing spell. His jaw clenched determinedly, refusing to acknowledge the pain of his muscles knitting themselves back together at an accelerated rate.

The third time Sloth lunged at him, Aeneas was too slow to dodge. Sloth caught him on the ground in the hallway, its two front paws applying all of its weight on his shoulders to minimise his struggling. Of course this didn't stop Aeneas from trying. "My, my… I do so love it to see my prey writhe…" The hunger was clear in the demon's voice, "it does make eating them more… enjoyable…" Sloth leered at Aeneas, some of the demon's drool landing on his cheek.

Aeneas turned his head away from it and readied his flaming dagger. He waited for Sloth to move its mouth closer to Aeneas' neck then stabbed the demon in between its ribs. Sloth howled in agonising pain before it looked down at Aeneas with fury in its eyes. Sloth shot its head forward to quickly rip out Aeneas' throat. Aeneas stabbed Sloth furiously multiple times. Aeneas then prepared one more spell for the tooth, shouting each word to the incantation with each stab. Not knowing if the spell will allow for Sloth's insides to burst into flames before Sloth tore his throat out.

Sloth had its teeth imbedded in Aeneas' neck but removed them and backed away. Which caused Aeneas to quickly grasp at his own throat in a protective measure as he watched Sloth intently as it backed away. Sloth could feel its insides become hotter and hotter. "Enough! I no longer want to fuss over prey that refuses to be eaten! Where is the mouse!? I will teach him my form if only to get rid of you!"

)0(

Aeneas stood still, his hand still cupped gently over his throat as he was sure to heal the deep puncture wounds. He watched the walls creep closer while Sloth taught Mouse to shift his form to that of a bear. Aeneas wondered how much time he had left, if what Mouse had said earlier was true. He watched as the shadows themselves had thousands of tiny claws that seemed to grabbing for something. Probably him.

This place was getting to him.

Aeneas was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Mouse speak. "Like this? A-am I a bear…?" Aeneas looked at Mouse, he was indeed a bear. "It feels heavy…"

Sloth sighed as it laid down, "close enough…" Sloth yawned "go, then, defeat your demon… or whatever you intend on doing. I grow tired of your mortal prattling…"

)0(

Aeneas theorised that the Fade had some sort of effect on memory as soon as one arrives and is conscious… or rather, lucid about one's intentions. That would certainly explain why he didn't remember climbing the stairs to the second floor. What he did remember though, was Mouse stomping around as he followed him. Aeneas found that odd… Why remember Mouse following him when he didn't remember-

"Another mortal thrown into the flames and left to burn, I see." This voice was also masculine and… booming. It gave Aeneas a headache just to listen to, as he once again, was snapped out of his thoughts.

Aeneas groaned, already sick of his test as he let the sprit continue.

"Your mages have devised a cowardly test. Better you were pitted against each other to prove your mettle with skill! Not be sent unarmed to face a demon."

Aeneas glanced over his shoulder to the spirit that spoke and stopped walking, "you know why I'm here, spirit?" Aeneas asked blankly, noticing the spirit that spoke was fully suited in Templar armour. Which Aeneas glared at as he turned to face him properly. He was in no mood to get into another fight, especially against an armed and armoured opponent.

"You are not the first to be sent here for such testing. Nor shall you be the last, I suspect." The armoured spirit turned to examine the weapons floating above, weapons that Aeneas only noticed just then. Vicious bladed steel and magical staves that seemed to resonate power to him. With his back to Aeneas, the spirit continued "that you remain means that you have not yet defeated your hunter. I wish you a glorious battle to come."

Aeneas stared curiously at the weapons above head, though his gaze fell onto one staff in particular. Aeneas had no interest in learning what type of spirit he was talking to, but the weapons did interest him, however. "Did you create all these weapons?"

"They are brought into being by my will." The spirit sounded proud before continuing, "I understand that in your world, only mages can will things into being. Those who cannot must live such hallow, empty lives…"

Aeneas was blunt, "will those weapons effect the demon?"

"Without a doubt! Everything that exists in this realm is an expression of a thought. Do you believe these swords made of steel, these staves of wood? Do you believe they draw blood? A weapon is a single need for battle, and my will makes that need a reality." The armoured spirit turned to face Aeneas again, "do you truly desire one of my weapons? I will give one to you… if you agree to duel me first. Valour shall test your mettle, just as it should be tested!" 'Valour' boasted.

Aeneas blinked, not at all surprised the spirit wanted to fight him. He was tempted to simply walk away, "it honestly seems like you would prefer to kill me, yourself."

"How dare you!" 'Valour' was outraged by the comment. "I am no demon that preys on helpless mortals! I am a spirit of Valour! I am a warrior!"

"So you propose to helpless mortals a duel, one they could potentially end up dying in?"

"You…! You are insolent!" 'Valour' sneered "but your will is unquestionably strong…" 'Valour' grumbled.

"And the staves?" Aeneas questioned.

Aeneas could feel 'Valour' glare at him through his helmet, "you may only choose *one*, mage."

)0(

"And so it comes to me at last." A voice out of nowhere echoed. Aeneas found his surroundings shifting and distorting to that of a volcanic wasteland. Aeneas quickly looked around and saw burnt and chained cages that seemed to hang from the very sky, blackened and foggy as it is. "Soon I shall see the land of the living with your eyes, creature." Aeneas turned again but only saw Mouse in his bear form, and that lava was getting a little too close to his feet. He took a couple steps back. "You shall be mine, body and soul."

"If I lose the Templars will cut you down," Aeneas called out to the demon, staff at the ready. As he took more steps back, searching everywhere for the demon, whilst trying to remain calm.

"They are welcome to try!" The voice laughed a roaring laughter. Aeneas shot around when he felt something touch his shoulder, only to find nothing there or anywhere. "So… this creature, Mouse, is to be my offering? My little plaything as per our arrangement?"

"I'm not offering you anything! I don't have to help you anymore!"

"Aww…" the demon laughed "even after all those wonderful meals we've shared? Now the little Mouse has suddenly changed the rules?" Aeneas glared at Mouse's general direction. He knew there was a reason why he didn't trust him…

"I'm not a mouse anymore, and I don't have to hide! I don't need to bargain with you!"

Mouse's response seemed to be hilarious to the demon, "we shall see…"

The lava got closer and Aeneas stepped back once again, being mindful of it, though the lava seemed to have no intention of crossing paths with Aeneas. Instead it creeped closer to other currents of lava in all directions, allowing it to pool and form into a humanoid figure.

Aeneas jogged a good distance away and saw Mouse snap his powerful jaws at the demon. Aeneas lifted his staff above his head, feeling the imbued magic in the staff add itself to his own magic as he chanted quickly. The very hot air of the volcanic wasteland seemed to freeze over and even chill Aeneas to the bone as ice formed out of the very air. As intended, the spell slowed the demon down. What didn't go to plan, however, was the spell failing to freeze the demon. That and it locked eyes with Aeneas.

"Shit," Aeneas commented as the demon came closer to him, throwing Mouse into one of the hanging cages. Temporarily incapacitating Mouse. The cone of cold spell didn't seem to work as effectively as Aeneas would've liked, especially since the demon have regained its regular speed.

"Soon your eyes will be mine!" The demon taunted as it suddenly appeared in front of Aeneas and grabbed his left wrist before Aeneas could fire another spell. Aeneas screamed out in pain as he felt the lava burning into his skin, causing the spell to fail and his skin to literally bubble and burst. Accompanying this was the smell of burning flesh.

Just then one of the cages above head screeched before crashing down with Aeneas and the demon directly under it. Aeneas looked up and ripped his wrist from the demon's grasp, causing it even more damage, and tumbled out of the way. Ultimately avoiding being crushed to death. Aeneas saw Mouse standing near the mechanical lever that no doubt governed the cage's behaviour. Aeneas saw Mouse's singed fur and red angry blistered skin. Aeneas was about to say something to Mouse before the cage started to shift and melt.

Aeneas backed away quickly from the melting metal, his breathing now shallow and ragged due to the searing pain. Aeneas glanced down at his wrist then quickly looked up. He could clearly see his exposed carpi tendons as his fingers twitched. Fuck…

"I'm sick of hiding!" Mouse roared and closed the distance between Aeneas and the demon with the speed of a lion. Mouse charged at the demon with large metal sheet in his mouth. Aeneas let go of his damaged wrist as the demon turned to face Mouse. Ignoring the searing, he lifted his twitching hand and his staff up in preparation for summoning a higher level primal spell.

Mouse was buying Aeneas some time as he slashed at the demon with the metal sheet. However, the demon was unconcerned by the frantic slashes that cut through nothing as it came closer.

The demon reached for and held Mouse's jaws shut with ease as lava dripped from its arm onto the dead land. The demon placed a finger to where its mouth would be and bent the metal sheet around Mouse's mouth to act as a muzzle. The demon made sure to weld the sheet together. Once that was done, it turned to Aeneas.

Aeneas' spell was successful. Though it took a lot out of him. Aeneas glanced over his shoulder as he wearily made his way away from the area, just narrowly escaping the blizzard. The blizzard had gradually frozen the demon and Mouse in place, almost as well as himself. A shard of ice came Aeneas' way, and had he not turned his head, would've taken his eye. Instead it grazed his cheekbone. Blood would have bled from the cut if the temperature would have allowed it to do so.

The snowy winds and wintery fog was thick and hard to see through, but Aeneas knew staves imbued with magic could hit any target, so long as there were no obstacles.

When the demon fell dead, the blizzard disappeared. The snow and ice melted, the winter's fog dissipated and it was a volcanic wasteland again.

Mouse changed to his human form as Aeneas looked away and held onto his wrist firmly but gently, wincing as he did so. "You did it! You actually did it! When you came, I thought you'd be able to… but I never really thought any of you were actually worthy-"

Aeneas cut him off, "the mages you betrayed before me. What were their names?"

"What?" Mouse sounded surprised, "it was long ago… none of them were ever as promising as you, though." _Was that an appeal to my ego_ , Aeneas thought. "I don't remember their names… I don't even remember my own name. It's the Fade. It does things to your mind."

Aeneas decided to drop the topic, figuring he wouldn't get a straight answer out of him. "You want something from me, don't you?"

"You defeated not only one, but two demons! Soon you will be a Master Enchanter with no equal… and maybe there will be room in history for those forgotten, such as I." Mouse seemed to be able to peer into Aeneas' very soul "you just need to want to let me in…"

It seemed Aeneas was right to not trust Mouse. The searing pain made him irritable and expressed it in voice, if not look, "not my _fucking_ problem, Mouse."

"W-what? Of course it's your problem! You're still here, aren't you!? Can't you feel their sword at your neck?" Mouse was outraged, "they believe all magic, all mages evil! I'm your best shot at getting out of here."

"The Templars may be right about some things." Aeneas' edge to his voice was induced by pain.

"The Templars know nothing! Those mortals and their pathetic Chantry, reciting 'Maker this' and 'Maker that'!"

Aeneas backed away from Mouse, a look of mistrust on his face.

"What I mean- I mean we're all mortal," Mouse sounded panicked and rushed, "but the Templars…!" Mouse sighed before he chuckled. His voice changed, now he spoke with an undertone that bounced off the sides of Aeneas' skull, "maybe they were right about you, mage."

Mouse grew several stories above Aeneas, as Aeneas looked up.

"Petty killing is a warrior's job," with each word 'Mouse' spoke, his voice became deeper and… demonic. "The real dangers are pre-conceptions, careless trust… pride."

Aeneas was at a loss for words.

"Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests never end."


	5. Chapter 5

The bedsheets were drenched in sweat as Aeneas mumbled and feverishly thrashed beneath his blankets in the apprentice quarters. Jowan, who had tried to ignore Aeneas for the past ten minutes, found himself peering over Aeneas in his lower bunk. "Aeneas? Aeneas, are you alright?" Jowan shook him a little, "say something, please…."

Aeneas' eyes flew open as a punch landed on Jowan's nose. "Ah! A demon! Die demon!"

Jowan stumbled back in shock, and clasped a hand over his nose… Maker… was that blood? "Shhh! It's me, Jowan!" Jowan's voice was muffled under his hand, but Aeneas seemed to have heard him and calmed down. "Calm down, you're safe."

Aeneas' hand went to his head as he groaned, feeling a slight headache coming on. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and looked up at Jowan, "how long did-"

"The Templars brought you here about ten minutes ago." Jowan let go of his nose and wiped the excess blood onto his sleeve. "I didn't even notice you were gone all night until they brought you back. I heard about apprentices that never come back from the Harrowing…"

"Yeah… I know. You're the one who gave me nightmares about it when we were younger…" Aeneas chuckled a little.

"Well, I was wondering… what was it like?" Jowan asked and came closer to Aeneas. He glanced down at his sleeve and tried to wipe the blood off it, but only smeared it in more.

Aeneas stood to his feet, and noticed that he was still dressed in his robes and boots. In his peripheral vision he saw the blood stain that seeped into his sleeve by the sloth demon. He panicked when he focused his attention upon it and hid his arm behind his back, as he felt his heart pound in his chest. Jowan looked at him suspiciously, which Aeneas shrugged off by smiling at him nervously as he gave Jowan his full attention. "I know we're friends, but… I really shouldn't…" Aeneas voiced, it was probably best to stay on subject.

"Yes we are friends, so please! Just a little hint and I'll stop asking, I promise!"

Aeneas sighed. It was best to keep on subject; besides, if Jowan can avoid being almost being killed twice, then it's worth telling him. Despite the potential for trouble he might get into. It couldn't be worse than last year, right? "I had to enter the Fade."

"Really? That's it?" Jowan walked to Aeneas' lower bunk and sat down, eager to hear what he had to say about the whole experience.

"And if a demon possesses you, you die."

"Well that makes sense… They'd want to see if you're strong enough to resist." Jowan mused more to himself than Aeneas. Jowan suddenly became frustrated with the whole notion and stood up, his voice laced with irritation "well, now you get to move up to the nice mages' quarters upstairs. I don't even know when they'll call me for *my* Harrowing."

"Any day now, probably."

Jowan frowned at Aeneas though it wasn't directed at him. Jowan's face lifted when he realised such, "I've been here longer than you have," he sighed before continuing "sometimes I think they just don't want to test me."

"What are you talking about, Jowan?"

"The tranquil never go through the Harrowing… Mages can either be asked to be made tranquil, or… it can be forced upon them, if The Circle feels that they'd be too dangerous as mages. Like you. You were accused of being a maleficar last year, but the rumours died down when Irving got involved, and when the investigation turned up with nothing. They let you off the hook because you're the First Enchanter's favourite. Though what does it say about both of us, when everyone knows we're friends, and that we both had rumours spread about us. About us being blood mages?"

Aeneas' eyes widened and he looked at him concernedly, "are you saying that you're also at the centre of those rumours?" Aeneas might have scoffed at the rumours about himself and the investigation, but the implication that his best friend would go through the same thing…? That hurt. Though that was simply a part of caring more about his friends than himself, wasn't it?

"Uh… I-I shouldn't really bother you about this. I was told to tell you to see Irving when you woke."

Aeneas still had a look of concern on his face, "what for?"

"He didn't say. About the Harrowing, I guess, but you never know with Irving."

Aeneas placed a hand on Jowan's back in comfort, "talk to me about it later on, alright?" He gave Jowan a small smile before manoeuvring around a couple of chess tables and chairs placed randomly in the room, and checked around the corner to check one of the vanity mirrors.

At least his hair or robes didn't look to be drenched in sweat, though that seemed to be his only saving grace. Aeneas' skin was more pale than it usually was and dark circles were under his eyes. Aeneas looked absolutely exhausted.

Aeneas was about to move away from the mirror and check up on Jowan before he noticed three pairs of deep purple punctures on his throat, out of the corner of his eye.

He turned suddenly to face the mirror again, and on confirmation of what he saw, he panicked. He pulled back his bloodied sleeve quickly to find his exposed carpi tendons even before he had the chance to look at his arm. His eyes widened in horror. He pulled his sleeve back further so it was tight against his upper arm, though he was somewhat thankful for not finding what he was expecting.

He expected to be able to actually visually *count* the muscles in his arm, whether if they were on the superior surface or more intrinsic, probably also a bit of bone. What he saw, though, was simply a swelling bruise. The colouration mixed between black, purple and blue.

He moved his injured arm, testing it. It moved easily enough, and without any measure of pain. Frowning in curiosity, he applied pressure onto the bruise with two fingers, and again, it felt fine.

Aeneas also expected his wrist to sting like a fucking bitch when he flexed it, in accordance to his exposed carpi tendons but no pain came. He was somewhat surprised when that, too, didn't hurt.

Aeneas had been afraid that the wounds he received in the Fade followed him into the waking world, but were they simply illusions? And if they were illusions, then what caused them?

"This is strange…" he commented dryly to himself as he pulled down his sleeve and turned his back to the mirror. Aeneas was definitely interested in hearing other mages' post-Harrowing experiences, if only for confirmation that he isn't crazy.

)0(

Aeneas remembered how the shadows in the Fade crept closer to him through the hallways, no matter how far or fast he went. The shadows cast by the mage-lights, placed strategically throughout the Tower, also didn't help though at least he wasn't in the Fade anymore. It also illuminated practically everywhere, so that was a big help too.

When Aeneas stood in the doorway to the First Enchanter's office, he saw that Irving and Greagoir, along with an armed and armoured man, were already in his office. Aeneas shifted to lean against the door frame and peered at the stranger curiously, wondering what business he could possibly have with the Circle; it wasn't like he was a mage.

"Many of our own have already went to Ostegar; Wynne, Uldred, and most of the senior mages. We've committed enough of our own to this war effort." Greagoir was beside himself.

"Your own?" Irving chuckled, and closed the tome he was reading. He stood from his seat, ignoring his messy desk with books splayed open in a neat fashion, if that were possible. "Since when have you ever felt such kinship with the mages, Greagoir? Or are you afraid to let the mages out from under Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their Maker-given powers?"

"How dare you suggest-"

"Gentlemen, please. Irving, someone is here to see you." The man gestured to Aeneas.

All eyes went to Aeneas. He swallowed, and immediately straightened off the doorframe, wondering if something dire was being discussed. "First Enchanter?" Aeneas also would have left to let them discuss… or argue- in peace, had he not been prompted to speak.

"Ah… well if it isn't our newest brother in the Circle. Come, child." There was warmth in Irving's voice. Had Irving not been the First Enchanter, Aeneas would've guessed that he'd be positively beaming with some kind of goofy grin on his face. Him being the First Enchanter and all, Aeneas decided it was alright for him to be silently beaming. He had a reputation to live up to, after all.

"This is-?" the man in armour let the question die off as he furrowed his brow curiously at Aeneas.

"Yes, this is he." Irving said proudly, which Aeneas had to admit, knowing that someone was proud of him made him feel proud of himself for making it possible.

"Well Irving, you're obviously busy… we will discuss this later."

"Of course. Now where was I? Oh yes; this is Duncan," Irving gestured to 'Duncan' "of the Grey Wardens." With that Irving glanced over his shoulder at the tomes on his desk, and carefully closed all 5 that Aeneas counted. For a brief second Aeneas saw that one of the books had 'maleficarum' in the title before Irving's body blocked his view. Aeneas smiled politely at Duncan, avoiding Irving's general direction. "You've heard about the war brewing in the south, I expect? Duncan is recruiting mages to fight with the king's army at Ostegar."

"Who are we fighting?" Aeneas asked while curiously studying the engravings and the battle scars dented onto Duncan's chest piece.

Duncan no doubt noticed, though he didn't seem to mind. "With the darkspawn invading, we need all the help we can get. Especially from the Circle."

Aeneas frowned slightly, "darkspawn are a dwarven problem."

Having said that seemed to have been the cause for Duncan's heavy sigh. As he spoke, Duncan gave the impression that he had explained this time and time again. "They have surfaced and formed into a horde in the Korcari Wilds. They threaten to invade north of the valley. I fear that if we don't drive them back, we may face another Blight."

At was at that point Irving went by Duncan, and put an arm around Duncan's shoulder. "Duncan, you worry the poor lad with talk of Blights and darkspawn. This is supposed to be a happy day for him."

"We live in troubled times, my friend" Duncan replied solemnly.

"Even so, we should seize moments of levity whenever possible. Especially in troubled times." Irving gave a small smile at Duncan and the smile grew when he addressed Aeneas again. A teacher proud of his most favourite student. "The Harrowing is behind you. Your phylactery was sent to Denerim. You're now officially a mage within the Circle of Magi."

Aeneas rolled his eyes, "my leash, you mean."

"Now child, it's not that bad…" Irving couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'm sorry, but what is this… 'phylactery'?"

"Blood is taken from apprentices who first enter the Tower," Aeneas spoke before Irving had a chance to.

"And persevered in special vials." Irving finished, frowning a little at Aeneas' tone of voice.

"So they can be hunted down once they turn apostate?"

"Exactly."

Irving gave Aeneas a warning look before addressing Duncan's question, "we have few choices, Duncan. The gift of magic is looked upon with suspicion and fear. We must prove that we are strong enough to handle our power responsibly." Irving still held the look of warning as he addressed Aeneas again, "and despite last year's antics," he smiled "you've proven that you can rise above it."

Aeneas watched, bewildered as two apprentices with great timing came in, knelt before him with arms out-stretched, offering him his new robes and staff that emulated magic that resonated with him specifically. Like a moth to a flame, Aeneas couldn't look away.

"May I present you with your new robes and staff," Irving smiled as Aeneas carefully took the robes and staff that were presented as gifts and status from the Circle.

Now Aeneas was positively beaming, all worry about the possible illusions forgotten temporarily. "Thank you!"

Irving chuckled, "now… it goes without saying that you must not speak of the Harrowing to those who've not undergone it."

Whoops… ah well. The Circle will live on.

"I should take my leave now," Duncan said suddenly after a moment's silence.

"Oh, would you be so kind as to escort Duncan to the guest's quarters?"

Aeneas smiled, "of course."


	6. Chapter 6

Aeneas took Duncan to his temporary quarters and had felt compelled to talk to him. According to him, there had been a grand total of seven mages for the king's army, and Duncan planned to have at least one or two mages in every contingent. The darkspawn had magic of their own, apparently, and Duncan sought to exceed them in every resource possible.

"So, you think I could join the king's army?" Aeneas asked jokingly.

Duncan apparently missed the joke, "I don't know. Do you?"

Aeneas was caught slightly off guard but recovered quickly, "I doubt I'd be allowed to join."

Duncan sighed heavily, "I sometimes wonder if the Chantry's many laws regarding magic are even necessary." Duncan then started to pace back and forward, his hands moving to and from his head in frustration as he spoke "darkspawn are a greater threat than blood mages, and even abominations! It takes decades for the world to recover from a Blight. I wish the Chantry can see that! We must stop at nothing to defeat the darkspawn, we—" he caught himself, glanced over to Aeneas and chuckled. He then returned his full attention back to him, "ah… listen to me. An old man's rantings can't be very interesting."

"As an apprentice, old men giving lectures has defined my life," Aeneas joked again.

This time Duncan got the joke. "I suppose they have," he chuckled.

"So… since we're on the topic… have you ever seen a blood mage before?" Despite what happened last year, the occasional whisper that he is, and that he had First Enchanter Irving under his control, Aeneas was most definitely *not* a blood mage. He had never even seen a blood mage before. Though he was interested, academically of course, in people's accounts who have encountered them—and, dare he say—lived to tell the tale.

"Once in my youth," Duncan answered immediately, voice solemn "I had just joined the Wardens, and was travelling with my mentor. We encountered a group of Templars hunting a blood mage, though they were quite far away so I cannot be sure of what I saw." Duncan paused and frowned as he remembered the event. "He forced some of the Templars to turn on their fellows… it was dreadful to behold. He would have escaped, too, had he not overlooked one Templar that snuck up behind him and cleaved his head in two."

Aeneas was almost speechless, "I'm sure he was just trying to survive…"

"It's something to consider, certainly."

The solemnity was contagious it seemed like, since Aeneas had no idea what to say after that. Finally, he settled on a goodbye, "well, I'll no doubt have lots of study, experiments and theses to prepare for, now that I'm a Circle Mage! So I'll be taking my leave now," he said cheerfully and smiled "it's been nice talking to you."

"Of course, don't let me keep you," Duncan smiled back.

)0(

Aeneas had pulled his sleeve up again and stared at his exposed carpi tendons as he walked to the library, after placing his new mage robes and staff in his very own room. Instinctively, he avoided bumping into walls, objects and people as he hid his wrist from view. He felt the stares from the other mages and Templars, and he knew that he was acting suspiciously, but he wasn't sure if the wounds he received were visible to everyone, or only himself. He also wasn't sure if he wanted to find out. Besides, the rumours will continue regardless.

He looked up and saw Wynne with a book open in one hand, a finger tracing where she was reading with the other. "Don't suppose you know anything about, oh, I don't know… Fadey wounds?" Aeneas asked once he came up to her, his back against the comfortable space between the bookcases in a corner.

"'Fadey wounds'?" Wynne raised an eyebrow at Aeneas' question, marked her place with her finger and looked up at him.

"Oh, fine… let's call them… ethereal wounds." He crossed his arms against his chest, his sleeve now down. "Y'know, wounds a person receives in the Fade, that follows them back beyond the veil and into the waking world? You're a healer, so I figured… you might've treated them, encountered them, or at the very least heard of them."

"I honestly can't say I've ever heard of them. Why?"

"It's just an interesting concept, and I thought if you can think of it; it probably exists."

"Uh huh… and does this have anything to do with your Harrowing?"

"Uh…" his arms dropped from his chest and shifted as he suddenly became uncomfortable.

Wynne simply stared at him, "or more specifically; have you received these ethereal injuries during your Harrowing?"

)0(

All he had to do was say a simple ' _yes, I have'_. Even a ' _yes'_ would have sufficed!

 _"I want to prepare for my study load, and I was thinking of using that as the basis of my hypothesis, and the thesis I no doubt have to write up."_

The words kept on replaying in his head. While it was a good cover up, with absolutely no stuttering, umming or uhhing, and spoken as smoothly as possible—Wynne didn't look or sound convinced.

 _"Well, let me know how your 'research' comes along. I might even have a patient that you could write about soon."_

She knew.

Aeneas found himself become increasingly frustrated at her and himself. At her for not being gullible enough to believe his lies, and at himself for lying to her about that.

He groaned.

"Well… Now I know what you think of me," Jowan whined sarcastically.

Aeneas shook his head, "y'know… with my superior elven hearing and all, I have no idea how I didn't hear you thudding along my way," he jabbed.

"Probably because you been dazing in and out of conscious awareness. You've been doing that a lot today… probably hit your head before you entered the Fade. Might wanna get that checked, if… y'know… you can actually ask for help."

Aeneas groaned again. "I assume you came to me for something?"

"I have. Are you done talking with Wynne and Irving?"

"I should be, why?"

"I need to talk to you… please come with me."

Now Aeneas was concerned and turned to face him, "Jowan, what is it? You seem a little on edge…" Sure enough there were worry lines in Jowan's brow.

"I've just been… troubled, I guess. Please, just come with me…"

Aeneas didn't say anything as he followed him, knowing that no doubt it was about the rumours about Jowan that had him upset. Aeneas intended to have them resolved as soon as possible for Jowan, if not for himself.


	7. Chapter 7

"This fat cow is your lover!?"

"She's _right here!_ " Jowan turned to Lilly, "I'm sorry Lilly…"

Lilly 'hmphed' at Aeneas and crossed her arms against her chest, her clear blue eyes glaring holes into his skull. Aeneas glared back. "It's quite alright… I just wonder if he's the right person you want to trust with this information." All three of them were in the chapel, which Aeneas found to be extremely suspect if this was what Jowan wanted to tell him. Chapels were usually infested with Templars, just as libraries were usually infested with mages. A mage and an initiate, together, in a forbidden relationship, telling him of said relationship inside a chapel? Aeneas coughed somewhat loudly, his fist covering his mouth. He could see a Templar praying as she was sitting in one of the long wooden benches in front of the statue of Andraste. Luckily she only just came in and didn't hear his whispered outburst.

"He can be a bit… abrasive, but I trust him with my life." Jowan replied carefully to Lilly, his eyes directed to the benches behind Aeneas. It appeared that he saw the Templar, too.

Aeneas sighed, "why are we talking about trust?"

"Trust in the Maker, Aeneas," Lilly forced a smile at him as she still glared. Which he had to admit, the mismatch of expressions looked odd and a little funny. "I may only be an initiate, but even I know the Chant of Light is the only way for us to live. That by following it, we will be graced by His love once more—and by doing that, we will have repented for our sins."

"But I thought the Maker doesn't care about mages…" Aeneas replied sadly as he played along.

"I thought that once, too…" Jowan chimed in, "but Lilly has showed me that not only does He love us, just as the rest of His children, but He also weeps for us. For we have been blessed and cursed with the gift of magic."

"Once we have a bit of time, I can direct you to my mentor and he can speak to you about it properly," Lilly said light heartedly, still glaring at him.

The Templar finished praying, got up, and returned to her duties. She left the chapel, which caused Aeneas to scowl as soon as she did. "Oh, I'd rather be stranded in the Black City itself than listen to another sermon…" he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Besides, you haven't yet told me exactly *what* you wanted to tell me."

"Maybe you would know that already if you actually think before you speak," Lilly chided him.

"Oh, yes… because getting into a relationship with a _mage_ when your Chantry forbids such things, makes you morally superior," Aeneas responded sarcastically.

This time Jowan sighed. "Aeneas, Lilly… please!" Jowan whined, he hated that his two favourite people in the world seemed to hate each other at first sight. "Aeneas… do you remember when I told you I didn't think they'll allow me to undergo the Harrowing this morning?"

"Of course I do."

"Well… I now know why. Th-they're…" Jowan shuddered in a steady breath "going to make me tranquil…" Jowan's eyes were bloodshot and tears clung to his lashes as he tried to blink them away. Instead they rolled down his cheeks.

This caused Aeneas' own eyes to widen. His face dropped when it suddenly dawned on him exactly how serious the rumours about Jowan had gotten.

"They'll take everything away from me! My dreams, hopes, fears! My love for Lilly! All gone!"

"Jowan… H-how did you find out about this?"

"There were documents on First Enchanter Irving's desk, issued by Greagoir to perform the Rite of Tranquillity on Jowan…" She paused and sighed sadly, "and Irving signed it."

"W-what…?" Irving…? Irving!? The same Irving who convinced Greagoir to take a chance on Aeneas, and that turning a mage who didn't want to be tranquil was a worse crime than not turning a blood mage? The same Irving that negotiated with Greagoir to allow Aeneas to become a Mage by title? The same Irving that accepted him under his tutelage seven years ago? The same Irving who was like the father he never had? No… No! This was obviously some kind of mistake…

"I need to get out of here! I need to escape and destroy my phylactery, that way so they can't track me down!" Jowan's voice was set with determination, which snapped Aeneas out of his thoughts. The news that Irving had signed the document had caused his throat to tighten. No… No! It isn't news. Because Irving has done no such thing. This is obviously a mistake. This is—

"Give us your word that you will help us, and we'll tell you what we intend." Lilly spoke up.

"You have my word, Lilly," Aeneas replied immediately.

Lilly gave him a small smile, as she finally stopped glaring at him "thank you. We will never forget this!"

)0(

 _"So it's true, then…"_

Aeneas needed to hear it for himself.

 _Irving sighed sadly. He knew they were inseparable since the day they became friends, "I'm afraid it is…"_

Which was why he went to Irving without their knowledge.

 _"Please… I'm begging you! Don't do this to Jowan…"_

For some stupid reason, he thought he could convince the First Enchanter otherwise.

 _"Were it left to me, things might be different… but the Chantry… I'm sorry, Aeneas, but the Rite of Tranquillity will happen."_

Which was why he stood in front of the stock room, talking to Owain about petitioning for a rod of fire.

 _"He's making it up! Greagoir hates mages!"_

 _"That's enough, Aeneas!"_

)0(

All three of them stood before an ornate stone door, within the stone-cold and misty corridors that led to one of the cells Aeneas had been in. Built into it was an inlay of a man cowering at what Aeneas could only guess was some type of explosion. He found it strange that he didn't remember seeing this door when he was dragged to one of the cells.

"The Chantry calls it 'the Victims' Door'," Lilly explained "built of two-hundred and seventy-seven cinder bricks. One for each original Templar." She gestured at the door, to where it had no lock or handle, "a reminder of the danger all those cursed with magic pose—"

"Yes, yes but how do we get passed it?" Aeneas asked impatiently. He didn't need a history lesson right now.

Lilly frowned at him but decided to hold her tongue from any further words with ill intent. "The door only responds to both a mage and Templar entering together."

Aeneas just looked at her, "but you're not a Templar."

"No, I'm not. I did, however, accompany a Templar once, with a mage, and got the password from him."

"And he wasn't suspicious of you?"

"We talked on many occasions, I believe he trusts me."

Aeneas shrugged, "alright, then."

Lilly turned her back to Jowan and Aeneas, her arm out-stretched towards the Victims' Door. Her eyes closed as softly spoke, "sword of the Maker, tears of the Fade…" She then turned suddenly to them and explained quickly, "the password only primes the door, and it must feel the touch of mana from a full-fledged mage. Any spell will do, Aeneas, but hurry!"


	8. Chapter 8

"So what you said is true, Irving…" Greagoir and Irving had a small band of Templars behind them, as they all stood before Aeneas, Lilly and Jowan, the moment they stepped foot out of the basement. Aeneas could see the heads of Mages and apprentices peeping out of the doorways on each side.

"Uh… I can assure you this isn't what it looks like!" Aeneas lied pathetically.

Greagoir scowled at Aeneas in response, "really? Because what it looks like is a newly appointed Mage and a Chantry initiate are helping a maleficar to escape."

"You also thought I was a maleficar, but you turned out to be wrong." Aeneas stated while Lilly shifted from foot to foot, hiding behind Jowan and Aeneas both.

"You're right; I was wrong. I should've issued the Rite of Tranquillity on you last year." Greagoir then disregarded Aeneas and grabbed Lilly by the wrist to bring her out of hiding, looking into her clear blue eyes. He saw shock, fear, but no resemblance of any fog. "Hm. She seems shocked but in full control of her own mind. Not a thrall to the blood mage, it seems."

Irving sighed sadly. "I'm disappointed in you, Aeneas. You had the chance to tell me of their plan when you came to me, and you refused."

"You went to him about this!?" Jowan was outraged.

"Jowan, please… I—" Aeneas was cut off.

"Don't you dare talk to me!"

"Enough!" Greagoir shouted. "As Knight Commander, I hereby order this maleficar," he pointed at Jowan "be put to death." The Templars walked forward in response, to seize Jowan. "As for the initiate; she has scorned her vows to the Chantry. Take her to Aeonar!"

Tears filled Lilly's eyes. Now she was really scared. She struggled to get out of Greagoir's grip, as he passed her wrist over to another Templar. "T-the Mages' prison…? N-no! P-please no… Not there!"

Anger consumed Jowan. His red face having the expression of fury. He immediately grabbed the knife hidden at his hip. "NO! I WON'T LET YOU TAKE HER!" Furiously, he stabbed at his own hand. Blood immediately drew to him and surrounded him at the site of the stab wound. He looked up and glared at Irving, Greagoir and the Templars. He saw them all eye him wearily as they backed away from him. Jowan smirked. With a great push, he shoved them all to the ground. Behind the sharp blood, the force of a sledge-hammer.

Aeneas glanced at Jowan with fear and worry before he ran up to the First Enchanter.

In response, Jowan shoved Aeneas with the blood against the brick wall and held him there. Aeneas coughed until he couldn't any longer. He felt the blood constrict his airways as it tightened around his throat.

Lilly screamed in horror. Her eyes wide with terror. "Blood magic!" She felt tears roll down her cheeks when both hands covered her opened mouth.

That snapped Jowan out of his rage. He turned to Lilly, the blood that choked and held Aeneas down losing all its force. Aeneas dropped to the floor with the blood, his own hand gently around his throat, and coughed violently. The bloody residue staining his hand, neck and robes.

Lilly backed away from Jowan when he timidly tried to approach her. "You said you never-!" She cut herself off. She couldn't think. Couldn't focus. Her mind ran a thousand miles a second. But one thing was for certain; Jowan is a blood mage.

"I-I admit… I dabbled. I thought it would make me a better mage." He whined, voice hurt. He could feel himself at the brink of tears. He blinked furiously in an attempt to draw the tears away.

"Blood magic is evil, Jowan! It corrupts people… changes them!"

"I'm going to give it up! All magic! Please, Lilly… I just want to be with you!" He pleaded. He was on his knees as he begged her. His eyes were bloodshot as he stared up at her, unblinking. The tears stung his eyes. He tried grabbing both of her hands, as his vision blurred. He could see Irving, Greagoir and his Templars get up, out of the corner of his eyes.

She refused him. She brought her hands up, out of his reach. She glanced her head to the side. She couldn't look at him anymore. "I don't know who you are, blood mage! Stay away from me!"

Jowan felt betrayed. He felt a dull headache in the background. He felt his heart thud heavily against his ribcage. He looked up at her in hurt, his mouth open in a dumbfounded expression. The tears continued to sting his eyes. He stood and ran away, shoving his way passed the Mages and apprentices, this time with his arms.

"Are you alright?" Irving asked as he helped Aeneas up, whilst clutching his side that was hit with the blood. Aeneas could see bloody residue on everyone except Lilly. Aeneas nodded in response, and cleared his throat as he stood up. Without thinking, he glared at Greagoir, though Greagoir either didn't notice or didn't care.

"Blood magic," Greagoir sighed and shook his head. "I did not think him capable of overwhelming so many!"

"None of us expected this, Greagoir," Irving assured him. If they had the outcome would not have played out as it did. He also didn't think Aeneas and Lilly knew, either.

"Where is the girl?" Greagoir demanded.

"I… I'm here, Ser." Lilly answered with an unsure tone. She shifted her weight, resisting the urge to run.

"You helped a blood mage escape! Look at all he's hurt!"

"You forced Jowan's hand," his voice was scratchy against his throat, but Aeneas was quick to defend his best friend. Though, now he wasn't sure if they were friends anymore. He coughed some more in an attempt to clear his throat. He didn't like that his voice sounded strange and physically weak.

"Knight Commander, I… I w-was an accomplice to a blood mage. I… I'll accept any punishment you see fit. E-even… A-Aeonar…" Two Templars stood behind Lilly at both her sides, waiting for their orders.

"Get her out of my sight!" Greagoir watched as they forcedly made Lilly walk with them. Greagoir then turned and glared back at Aeneas. "And you! Newly a Mage, and already you're floundering the Circle's rules!" He sighed, "what are we to do with you?"

"Do what you like. You're obviously going to anyway." Even then his voice sounded weak.

"You HELPED A BLOOD MAGE ESCAPE! All our prevention methods are nought, because of you! Do you not understand the significance of your actions!?"

Aeneas frowned at Greagoir. He wondered if the bloody residue could be used to track Jowan down, since it was his own blood. Though he wasn't sure if blood magic somehow altered its properties, beyond the obvious, to make it impossible to track the owner down. Of course, he wasn't going to ask Greagoir that, if it hasn't been thought of already.

"You can scrape his blood off the stone floor in the phylactery chamber, for all I care."

Greagoir took offence to that. He lifted a steel gauntleted hand up to strike Aeneas, until Irving stood in his way. Greagoir, fed up, threw his hands up as he strode a short distance away from them. He turned to Aeneas again, "you may or may not be a blood mage, but it's clear after all that's happened that you're a danger to us all. Therefore, you shall suffer the same fate as Jowan."

Aeneas sighed heavily. Somehow he knew he would die today, he was just wrong about when in the day. He sensed another pair of Templars come by him, and he didn't fight or protest. What was the point?


	9. Chapter 9

"Why did you bother saving me? Surely there must be some other 'talented' mage you could've picked out." Aeneas didn't understand Duncan's decision. He still had a hand placed gently over his throat, as he was packing his bag for travel. He was still hurt over Jowan's betrayal. Did Jowan really think that lowly of him, that Aeneas would deliberately try to stab him in the back? He rolled his eyes. Apparently, Jowan must've thought with some twisted reasoning, that Aeneas would. Or did. So, he decided to do so. Aeneas couldn't bring himself to blame Jowan though, so he blamed the blood magic he used. He refused to believe that's what he would've done if he didn't know it. It was obvious that Jowan had done some damage to his larynx. It hurt to talk, but then again… pain came with life. Besides, he needed an answer from Duncan, "pretty much everyone is convinced that I'm some sort of evil maleficar. Why would you risk that?"

Duncan stood in the doorway. Aeneas guessed to act as a body between his potential recruit and a potential attacker, that acted on their own accord. Duncan watched as him as he packed his things in his new room he never got to use. He shifted and leaned against the frame with his arms crossed against his chest, "would you have preferred death, to this?" It was a genuine question, not voiced out of pity or annoyance.

"I don't know…" Aeneas was feeling sorry for himself, and he hated it. He saw his exposed carpi tendons, and frustratedly dug into his bag for a cloth. Once he found it, he tied the cloth around his wrist tightly. He could only deal with one thing at a time. "It certainly seems like that'll make everyone's lives easier if I was," he commented to himself in annoyance.

"And it would be a waste."

"Y'know, right now… it's kind of hard to agree with you. But, whatever…" He forcedly stuffed the things that spilled out of his bag, into his bag, when he searched for the cloth. "It's not like I'm going to complain." Aeneas tied the rope to his bag up, and reached for his new staff. The smooth, burgundy coloured wood was almost a comfort to him. Though he felt nothing of the magic that resonated with him earlier. Pity.

"Aeneas, as I told you earlier; I plan to have at least one or two mages in every contingent."

"So it's pure pragmatism, then?" Aeneas slung his staff over his shoulder as he looked at Duncan. "If that's the case, then why not recruit more mages, like you said you wanted?"

"I'm not only recruiting mages for the king's army, Aeneas. I'm also recruiting for the Grey Wardens."

"Right. Then which am I to join? The king's army or the Grey Wardens?" Aeneas didn't care either way. His life in the only place he considered to be home was now over.

Duncan smiled at him, as if he had some secret he wasn't willing to share. "If you're finished packing your bag, then we should leave immediately."

)0(

The surrounding night, without the campfire, was darker than Aeneas imagined it to be. It also wasn't practical to read in the flickering light of the campfire, though he continued to try. Both Duncan and him sat on fallen tree trunks on opposite ends of the fire, while Aeneas was hunched over his heavy tome in his lap. His bag near his feet. He was determined to concentrate on what the words in Tevene said, covered in flickering light and darkness as they were, as well as the Ferelden translations. He scribbled his spidery script occasionally where-ever there was enough space to do so. He leaned forward a little, unknowingly, causing his heart to skip a beat. He'd almost spilt ink all over the pages! He sighed, frustrated with it all, he sat the inkwell and quill aside on the ground. His tome, where he's been sitting, and stood up.

Duncan glanced up at him with a raised brow, beyond the fire and the boar that roasted on the spit. "You are allowed to eat," Duncan commented humorously, once he noticed he hasn't touched his share.

Aeneas looked over to the roasted boar that Duncan hunted earlier. He shook his head, slightly repulsed at the idea of eating a once-living-animal's-flesh, "I'm fine, thanks." He politely rasped his refusal. His hand subconsciously going to his throat. He knew it wasn't practical to refuse to eat certain foods whilst camping, when there's no other options. He also knew that the only thing stopping him from eating meat was purely psychological. That didn't mean he could help it, though. He's been a vegetarian in the Tower for so long, he… Aeneas caught himself in his train of thought. They weren't always going to have the luxury of choice, which meant he was going to have to learn to tolerate meat, at least. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going?" He changed the subject and sat back down.

"We'll be travelling south through the Hinterlands, to the ruin of Ostagar, on the edges of the Korcari Wilds." Duncan began, as he reached for his sword and whetstone.

"Ostagar? I didn't know that was built near the wilds."

"The Tevinter Imperium built Ostagar long ago to prevent the wilds from invading the lowlands," Duncan explained that very brief piece of history. Truly, he thought the Circle would've taught him about Tevinter architecture in Ferelden. Duncan glanced down at his sword. He glided the whetstone along it with enough force to make sparks fly.

"So why Ostagar? What's so special about it that the final fight must be there?" Aeneas reached for the boar meat in the ceramic bowl he set aside on the log earlier. He figured he might as well learn to try and tolerate it. Though he could only stare down at it, repeatedly picking pieces of meat up and dropping them back into the bowl.

"Ostagar has heavy fortifications," another long glide of the whetstone made a massive spark. "Doubly so, since King Calian is stationed there. Both King Calian's and the Grey Warden scouts has confirmed that the darkspawn are now within the Korcari Wilds, border-lining Ostagar. It's fitting we make our stand there. Even if we face a different foe in that forest."

"So… how many men do you and the king have combined?"

"Not as many as I'd like. There's only a few Grey Wardens within Ferelden, but all of us are here. The king's forces has also clashed with the darkspawn several times." Duncan lifted his sword up to examine the edge and tested its sharpness. Seeming to be satisfied, he set aside his sword and whetstone to put away later. "Though, Ostagar is where the bulk of the horde will show itself."

Aeneas slowly nodded. He wondered how he would be fighting darkspawn. It wasn't like he killed a person before, and isn't that what darkspawn are? People physically corrupted and driven mad by the taint? He's a vegetarian, for Andraste's sake! He'll have a hard enough time convincing himself to kill an animal, much less something that was a person! He set aside the boar meat again, and brought the tome onto his lap. This time he didn't bother trying to translate any of the Tevene to Ferelden. Not in that light at least. His goal was to make sure he knew how to cast at least one glyph from the Creation School, by the time they reached Ostagar. That wouldn't happen if he accidently spilled ink due to poor lighting.

)0(

Aeneas followed Duncan's advice by not straying too far from the camp. The magelight he previously cast followed him around as he decided the large, open area he was in, currently, was perfect. He sat his bag down, and knelt before it. Untying it, and digging into it, he brought out a small pack of chalk and his old apprentice robe he changed out of, covered in his own blood, but mostly Jowan's. He spread the robe out on the dried grass, so there were no creases. He wondered if it were possible to divine where Jowan was, through his blood he used for his blood magic. He wasn't sure if it was possible, he figured; otherwise Greagoir and his Templars would no doubt be on Jowan's trail already. Though, suppose it was possible and that they were. Aeneas wanted to be the one to find him first. Which meant he had no time to waste.

He closed his eyes to meditate, breathing slowly and deeply through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. Suddenly taking notice of the crickets' song, and the breeze that rustled through the countryside grass and trees. Though he didn't want to focus on any of that. Mentally, he shut the noise of his surroundings out. Expertedly, he undid the pack for the chalk and drew one out of its deck with his off-hand. While his main hand stayed connected to his stained apprentice robe. The image of the glyph he's been studying, clear in his mind. He began drawing it. It was difficult to concentrate its magic, and he strained to remember the words that went with it. He wasn't proficient in Tevene. It took a long while for the image of a place to finally settle and focus in his mind's eye. Jowan… was in… some sort of crowded city? It was hard to tell. He definitely knew that the hooded figure was Jowan. Even his timid body language gave him away. Though… what was…? What!? No! Jowan knew! The image began fading from his mind. Aeneas' eyes flew open and stared wide-eyed. Jowan's blood was disappearing from Aeneas' robe! "What the fuck!? What the actual fuck!?" He rasped his shout, his voice scratchy, causing him to cough.

He felt the edge of a sword at his neck. Aeneas froze. His body still heaving a little to cough, but he refused. "Something wrong with yer voice, mage?" He heard a male voice say, though he didn't dare to look behind him.

He saw another one, this one a human female, walk out from behind him to his pack in front of him. She smirked down at him and deliberately tipped his bag upside down. "What's a lil mage like you doing outside the Tower? Did ya buy yer freedom, eh? Ya must a lot of valuables." All his belongings he packed spilled out of his bag in one massive dump. He gritted his teeth when he saw her spread them out with her leather booted foot.

He looked up at her, now seeing that she wore cured leather armour. She also had what looked to be a veridium longsword at her hip, and a bow and quiver full of arrows at her back.

She tilted her head at him, her smirk growing even wider. "Stunned by my beauty, are ya?"

"Hardly," he replied defiantly.

He felt a hard kick to his chest. All the air escaped his body when his back fell onto the dried and prickly grass. He couldn't resist coughing anymore. Something was missing… why wasn't—fuck! He couldn't feel his staff!

"Yer obviously blind, knife ears," she lightly commented as he coughed. She knelt to take a better look at his belongings; normal clothes, an extra robe, a blank hardbound journal, a small container filled with salt, another small container filled with some sort of dried food, and three vials of lyrium. "Hmm… what's this?" She hummed throwing his clothes away, revealing a single silver chain. She smiled at it and swept her short, oily hair to one side to put it on. "Pretty."

Aeneas sat up and saw the male bandit, another human, pick up the container that contained the vegetables he dehydrated as snacks for travel. Upon biting into the dehydrated strip of eggplant, he spat it out at Aeneas. Then tossed the container at him, his snacks spilling everywhere. "That was bloody well horrible, mage!" He commented in disgust. Aeneas glared at him, he saw his staff on the bandit's back.

Aeneas didn't bother answering. he looked around without turning his head, he needed to see how many bandits there were. He counted no other bandits than the two that stood in front of him, grinning. Maker… they had awful teeth…

"Ya wanna know a lil somthin', my lil magey knife ears?" She chuckled, and knelt down to his level as she spoke "I have a lil pure bred mabari. She loves snacks, too." She swept Aeneas' hair behind his pointed ears, and reached for her dagger she kept concealed "she'll love your ears."

Aeneas was suddenly aware of the rushing of his own blood. He glared at her, his heart hammering against his ribcage. He spat in her face.

The female bandit was taken aback. She gasped in shock and whipped the spit from her face. Aeneas took that chance to scramble back and stand. She then locked eyes onto him, fuming with rage. Aeneas kept both bandits within his sight as he backed away from the two. The male bandit, who wore the same cured leather, drew his steel longsword, while the female bandit drew her bow, notching an arrow.

Aeneas' main focus was the archer, so far. He wanted to see if she was a careless shot. That would definitely take some of the work out of fighting the swordsman. Though that still meant he had her to contend with. The swordsman lunged at him with a heavy swing of his sword. Aeneas yelled as he dodged. He almost hadn't moved in time, causing him to cut through his Circle Mage robes. The bastard grinned at him! He knew he caught him off guard, and quickly lunged at him again. Aeneas ignored the stinging. He dodged again, this time with perfect timing, and prepared a silent lighting spell as he continued to dodge swing after swing.

The arrow flew a mere inch away from Aeneas' head. Aeneas wasn't shocked, though he fired his lightening at her. It landed. Her nerves alight with excruciating pain disarmed her of her bow. She hurt his ears with her piercing scream.

The swordsman yelled out in rage. His face red, his eyes murderous. All his weight went behind one powerful swing, purposed with beheading Aeneas. Aeneas ducked the swing, hoping to manoeuvre around him and take his staff back. Aeneas was kicked hard, again. The air was knocked out of him when his back landed on the grass. Aeneas had nowhere to run. His mind ran a thousand miles a second. His heart raced, he felt his pulse everywhere in his body. He watched as the man stood over him, as he glared down. Aeneas needed to think of something fast.

He didn't think, he reacted. The sword came thrusting down to Aeneas' chest. Aeneas clasped onto the blade with both fists. The man stepped one foot forward and applied more strength. The sword slid through his fists, slicing his flesh. It stung badly. He could feel his own blood wet on his hands and cause the blade to become slippery. His blood quickly ran down the steel. He watched in fear as the sword edged closer and closer to his heart.

The swordsman screamed. The sword, itself, along with his hands and arms froze solid. It took Aeneas a moment to realise what he's done in his panicked state. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the female bandit retrieve her bow, and quickly notched and fired her arrow. He scrambled in the opposite direction, the grass irritating the cuts even more, while the man stumbled back and forth in quick, heavily pained groans and breaths.

The archer was absolutely furious. "WHY WON'T YA FUCKING DIE!?" She screamed at him. She crushed all three vials of lyrium with a heavy stomp, before chasing after him as he ran. She immediately fired each arrow wildly without careful calculation as she ran.

Each breath Aeneas took was like fire to his lungs. All of them were short and not enough. He didn't dare glance over his shoulder as he ran towards the trees. Each arrow fired almost hit him, no matter how wildly they were shot. He needed something between the two of them. The trees would do perfectly.

She groaned frustratedly and threw her bow to the ground. She then drew her veridium longsword and followed him around the tall, three-meter-thick tree Aeneas hid behind. While he used that as a chance to quickly prepare another spell. She surprised him by finding him sooner than he expected and raised her longsword above her head with both hands, to cleave his in two. Before she brought her sword down, he fired his spell. A sea of flames originated from his palms as he fanned them out. She screamed in a mix of fury and agony. Her eyes wide as she stared at him, unseeing. Her skin began to crack, blister and pop as she dropped her longsword. Aeneas could smell the foul odour that resulted. He brought his sleeve up to his nose as he stumbled back away from her, as he watched on in horror. She fell to her knees, then the fire claimed her life.

Aeneas continued to watch as tears blurred his vision. The grass around her newly charred corpse, scorched in a circle around her. The fire still raged. This was… It wasn't supposed to end this way! He wasn't supposed to kill her! It wasn't… Oh, Maker… The smell got to him. He half-ran-half-stumbled away from the tree with a hand tightly covering his mouth.

Aeneas saw Duncan fire a bolt from his crossbow at the other bandit. He didn't see where it landed from the bandit's back, but he heard him scream. Duncan then rushed forward, faster than Aeneas thought a man able to run in the armour he wore, and slashed at him. The bandit rose his… ragged stumps for arms before falling to his knees and died on his back.

He ran forward, slowing down gradually to a complete stop when he saw the icy, crystallised blood, and the icy remains of his two shattered arms. He couldn't help but stare at his body, and the bolt that protruded from the bandit's eye socket. He stared at the glistening blood that ran down his cheek in Aeneas' magelight. He stared, his green eyes wide and unblinking. His mouth and throat felt hot. His stomach churched. Th-this was real, wasn't it? They're dead…? Aeneas slowly reached for the bolt with a shaky hand.

Duncan frowned at Aeneas. He watched him as he hurriedly crawled a short distance away, and dry retched. "This Blight must be stopped, here and now, Aeneas. If it spreads to the north, Ferelden will fall. We don't have time for you to play games with the enemy."


End file.
